"Take me home, Herr Schmidt, please," she cried.
In the cab the reaction came. Suppose she had been making a fuss about nothing? What would Denis think of her? Two tears fell with a little splash on her ungloved hands. She turned suddenly to her big, silent companion.
"Herr Schmidt, was I horrid to you about coming with me?"
"Ach, mein Fräulein! I intrude, I know—-"
"Oh, you don't, you don't! I think you have been beautiful! I'll never forget it!"
"Fräulein, you are goot to say so, but I am troubled. I haf ze unquiet conscience about you."
"You needn't have, Herr Schmidt. I—" with a sudden wild Irish change of feeling, "I believe I have just been making a fuss about nothing!" She gave a quick little laugh. "Oh, Herr Schmidt, it's nothing at all! Don't go making mountains out of it."
"Fräulein, I will think of it as a mere young maid's episode. Hein? A mere naughty prank."
She laughed almost hysterically.
"That's it, Herr Schmidt!"